Mr. Meredith

“ Meredith, delighted to be thus supported, “I have small doubt thy indelicacy with him will land us all in prison. Such folly is beyond belief, and came not from my family, Mr. Meredith,” she added, turning on her husband.
“Well, well, wife; all the folly in the lass scarce comes from my side, for ’t is to be remembered that ye were foolish enough to marry me,” suggested the squire, placably, his anger at his daughter already melted by the sight of her distress. “Don’t be too stern with the child; she is yet but a filly.” ”

“ Meredith bent down and kissed the earnest little face, "You are the only friend I have got, Maggie, that thinks and feels as I do."
"O Ditto! Uncle Eden?"
"Well, I suppose Mr. Murray would do me the honour to let me call him my friend," said Meredith.
"And papa?"
"Mr. Candlish is very good to me; but you see, I do not know him so well, Maggie."
"Well, he thinks just as you do. And papa goes and preaches in the streets when he is in New York; in those dreadful places where the people live that never go to church."
"That's like Landolf," said Meredith. "I almost envy men like that old monk." ”

“ I am kept so poor I have not the smallest of sums. I do not wish to leave Wales—the people begin to love me; and can one be mistaken? I know if I am loved or hated. But if my lord will give me an allowance of money of some hundreds, I will do his bidding; I will leave England or I will go to Esslemont; I could say—to Mr. Woodseer, in that part of London. He would not permit. He thinks me blacked by it, like a sweepboy coming from a chimney; and that I have done injury to his title. No, Riette, to be a true sister, I must bargain with my lord before I submit. ”

“ How foreign to them, in that character, how strange, when she was looked on as an inhabitant of their house, they hardly dared to estimate; until the timorous estimation, from gradually swelling, suddenly sank; nature invaded them; they could discard the alienating sense of the taint; and not only did they no longer fear the moment when Mr. Stuart Rem or Mr. Posterley might call for evening tea, but they consulted upon inviting the married one of those gentlemen, to ‘divert dear Nesta.’ Every night she slept well. ”

“ As he spoke Inspector Mitchell thrust it almost under Fernando’s nose. “Do you know what it unlocks?”
Fernando turned the key over and over, his expression inscrutable as he fingered the linen tag. “I no see it before,” he stated, handing it back.
“Have you seen one like it?” asked Curtis, breaking his silence.
“Perhaps,” was Fernando’s noncommittal reply.
“Mr. Meredith kept always the keys under his pillow at night; sometimes,” looking first at one man and then the other, “Mr. Meredith forget in the morning and send me for them.” ”

“ Pictures and song abound in them, and breathless vivifying races with passion. Writers are not uncommonly enamoured of their heroines, and while none of his can claim a lack of sympathy and admiration on Mr. Meredith’s part, there are three that stand out as rivals for the post of his heart’s beloved. In different ways, all leading to the one source, like the various roads to Rome, is he equally the recording lover of Emilia or Sandra, Clara Middleton and Diana. ”

“ Meredith’s muse, although quite within the scope of it. It is rather the lark’s joy in nature clothed with the more artificial vocalism of man. Mr. Meredith is pantheist in large measure when he attunes his lute-strings to the demands of Mother Earth. ”

“ There is too much truth in it for the comic muse, and the pathos is too apparent.
As Sir Willoughby is Meredith’s typical analysis of the male’s character, so is Diana Warwick his chief type of woman, and just so ruthlessly as he is drawn is she drawn mercifully—too mercifully, perhaps, for she is painted in all the glowing colours of love. Mr. Meredith is not the analyzer of [136] Diana; he is her ardent lover. He adores her unscrutinizingly, as it behoves the true lover to adore his lady. ”

“ His words were echoed by Sam Hollister who, at that instant, came into the room followed by Inspector Mitchell.
“Meredith’s suicide has fairly stunned me,” he added, as the men grouped themselves about Curtis, who occupied the only chair in that part of the room. “It is incomprehensible, astounding. A man in the best of health—”
“Hold on!” Coroner Penfield held up his hand. “Let me do the questioning, Hollister.” He turned to McLane. “You were Mr. Meredith’s family physician, were you not?” ”

“ Downstairs in the library Sam Hollister rubbed his bald head with a large silk handkerchief and gratefully accepted Herman’s suggestion of a cocktail from what had once been John Meredith’s private stock.
“Bring three,” he added. “I am sure Mr. Armstrong will join me, and Doctor Curtis will be here presently.” As the butler disappeared, he turned to Gerald Armstrong. “A cocktail,” he remarked dryly, “may make you a more agreeable companion.” Armstrong transferred his gaze from his carefully creased trousers to Hollister’s flushed countenance. ”

“ Her eyes sought those of William Meredith, then, in a language I did not understand, she spoke some words, in so sweet a tone, they must have been of love. After a short stay I left, promising to return soon.
I did return—and at the end of two months was almost a friend for this young couple. Mr. and Madame Meredith had no selfish happiness, they could still spare the time to think of others. They could understand that a poor village doctor, having no other society than that of peasants, would deem an hour well spent that was passed in listening to polished conversation. ”

“ Meredith, in a low voice. “Dost think to make a scene on the Sabbath?”
“Then let your parson hold his,” retorted Mr. Meredith, but like a well-trained husband, in so low a voice as to be inaudible to all but the occupants of the sleigh. “Ge wug, Joggles! What is the land coming to, when such doctrines are preached in the pulpits; when those in authority are told ’t is their duty to do what the riff-raff think best? As well let their brats and bunters tell us what to do. ”

“ The fun being over, the crowd began to scatter, the older ones betaking themselves indoors while the youngsters waylaid Charles, as he came from hitching the horses, and suggested a drill.
The bondsman shook his head and walked to the squire. “Any orders, Mr. Meredith?” he asked.
“Get an axe and smash this—thing to pieces.”
“They would not let me,” replied the man, shrugging his shoulders. “Hadst best do as they want, sir. You can’t fight the whole county.” ”

“ Hollister glanced keenly about the bedroom and moved as if to cross to a mahogany secretary which stood near one of the windows. “Perhaps they are in Meredith’s secretary—”
“Just a moment, Mr. Hollister,” Coroner Penfield held out a detaining hand. “Nothing is to be touched in this room. Inspector Mitchell and I will conduct a thorough search later on. In the meantime have you any notes, any memorandum of the agreement signed by Meredith last night which you could give us?” ”

“ Meanwhile, the squire broke the seal of the letter and began to read it.
“Wilt have tea or home brew?” asked Mrs. Meredith.
“Beer for me, marm, thank you. An’ I think it only kindly ter say I've hearn talk concernin’ your tea drinkin’.”
“Let ’em talk,” muttered the squire, angrily, looking up from the letter. “’T is nothing to me.”
“But Joe Bagby says there ’s a scheme ter git the committee of Brunswick township ter take it up.”
“Not they,” fumed Mr. Meredith. “’T is one thing to write anonymous letters, but quite another matter to stand up and be counted. ”

“ Meredith’s name, invite thee and his Lordship to eat a dinner at Greenwood, where thou’lt have the best of victuals, washed down with Madeira fit for Bacchus.”
“Ay,” cried Mr. Meredith, “the rebels have done their best to bring famine to Greenwood, but it shall spread its best to any of his Majesty’s servants.”
“Here ’s loyalty indeed,” said Sir William, heartily, as he leaned in his saddle to shake the squire’s hand. “Damn your rebel submissions and oaths, not worth the paper they ’re writ on; but good Madeira,—that smacks loyal and true on a parched tongue and cannot swear false. ”

“ Mr. Pole laughed. "No, no. You get nothing out of me. All I say is, be practical. The sun isn't always shining."
He appeared to be elated with some secret good news.
"Have you been over to Besworth, the last two or three days?" he asked.
The ladies smiled radiantly, acknowledging Wilfrid's wonderful persuasive powers, in their hearts.
"No, papa; we have not been," said Adela. "We are always anxious to go, as I think you know." ”

“ Meredith presented as "my niece," the modest, self-possessed young girl, whose cheeks grew not a whit redder, and whose pulse did not quicken at the sight of him, though a gleam of something like curiosity shone in the brown eyes which scanned him so quietly. She was thinking of Lucy, and her injunction "not to speak to the hateful if she saw him;" but she did speak to him, and Mrs. Meredith fanned herself complacently as she saw how fast they became acquainted.
"You do not dance," Mr. Hastings said, as she declined an invitation from Ned Peters, whom she had met at Saratoga. ”

“ Meredith.
“Ay,” added the squire. “Hast heard of how that scoundrel Evatt schemed
“Oh, dadda!” moaned Janice, imploringly.
“No scoundrel is he, squire, nor farmer neither; he bein’ Lord Clowes,” asserted Phil. “He joined our army at New York, and is Sir William’s commissary-general an’ right-hand man.”
A more effectual interruption than that of the girl’s prevented Mr. Meredith from enlarging upon the theme, for the bugle sounded in quick succession the “assembly” and “boots and saddles.” ”

“ Meredith’s style is not ... so obscure as it is often represented to be.”—Athenæum.
“Carinthia will take her place ... in the long gallery of those Meredithian women whom all literary Europe delights to honour.”—Daily Chronicle.
“By George Meredith! Those three words have a welcome sound for reviewers.”—Literary World.
“We have said enough to show that Mr. Meredith’s plot is excellently conceived and excellently carried out.”—Standard.
“Most novels are merely dramas with padded stage directions. Mr. Meredith’s, everybody knows, are otherwise. His novels are always human life....”—The Star. ”

“ I am singing the waltz.
‘Adieu, ‘Ever and beyond it, ‘Your obedient Queen, ‘HENRIETTA.
‘P.S.-My Lord Tyrant has departed—as on other occasions. The prisoner of his word is sure to take his airing before he presents himself to redeem it. His valet is left to pay bills, fortunately for Livia. She entrusted her purse yesterday to a man picked up on the road by my lord, that he might play for her. Captain Abrane assured her he had a star, and Mr. Potts thought him a rush compere, an adept of those dreadful gambling tables. Why will she continue to play! ”

“ She had joined her sister, thinking it safer to have her up-stairs till they were quit of Evan. The Duke and the diplomatist loitering in the rear, these two fair women sailed across the lawn, conscious, doubtless, over all their sorrows and schemes, of the freight of beauty they carried.
What meant that gathering on the steps? It was fortuitous, like everything destined to confound us. There stood Lady Jocelyn with Andrew, fretting his pate. Harry leant against a pillar. Miss Carrington, Mrs. Shorne, and Mrs. Melville, supported by Mr. George Uploft, held watchfully by. ”

“ We've knocked him over, and march in victorious—eh, my lady?'
'Oh!' exclaimed the Countess, 'if Mr. Raikes shall indeed have listened to my inducements!'
'Deuce a bit of inducements!' returned Andrew. 'The fellow's ashamed of himself-ha! ha! Now then, Louisa.'
While they talked, Juliana had loosed Dorothy and Alec, and these imps were seen rehearsing a remarkable play, in which the damsel held forth a hand and the cavalier advanced and kissed it with a loud smack, being at the same time reproached for his lack of grace. ”

“ One can, however, [126] scarcely hope for more than a limited acceptance of his poems; that he should be popular in the ordinary meaning of the word, as some poets are taken to heart by the sons of men, is indeed scarcely conceivable. Such popularity, which is after all an equivocal tribute for the most part, Mr. Meredith has never aimed to secure. His has been a life of remoteness from profane ambitions, a life steadfast to the standard early set for himself—a standard of the highest kind. ”

“ Your uncle accompanies us. I really think the Squire will, too; and Mr. Forth is no chaperon. Even you understand that.”
“Oh, I can get an old man—don’t be afraid, said Rose. “Or must I have an old woman, aunt?”
The lady raised her eyelids slowly on Rose, and thought: “If you were soundly whipped, my little madam, what a good thing it would be for you.” And that good thing Mrs. Shorne was willing to do for Rose. She turned aside, and received the salute of an unmistakable curate on foot.
“Ah, Mr. Parsley, you lend your countenance to the game, then?” ”

“ Just because you know something of the manual don’t make you boss of the earth.”
The bondsman glanced at the squire, and urged, “Come, Mr. Meredith, you ’d better do it. Think how anxious Mrs. Meredith and—will be, aside from you probably taking a death cold, or losing a hand or foot.”
At last the squire nodded his head, and without more ado Bagby stooped and unlocked the log. Mr. Meredith was so cramped that Charles had to almost lift him to his feet, and then give him a shoulder into the public room of the tavern, where he helped him into a chair before the fire. ”